Just So You Know
by whirlwind94
Summary: Unable to stifle her affections, Meggie makes her feelings known in a letter before running away. Older teenage Meggie- not the twelve year old she was in the book, though her age isn't specified. Unrequited Meggie/Dustfinger


**Author's note- This is my first venture into the Inkheart fandom, so some feedback of any sort (but not flames) would be great. **

**Disclaimer- The books and characters are all property of Cornelia Funke**

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I'm running away.

You must by now know this because I'm gone, I've left already.

It seems so cliché for me to leave in the middle of the night, but I don't think there's another way. And I know Mo will miss me- would you give him my love? I don't really think Resa will mind my absence- though I can imagine you trying to defend her now that I've said that. Don't. She was gone for so much of my life that she's not really my mother. She's the cause of my father's heartbreak, a story he made up for me that actually came in real life to take him away from me… sorry, I didn't mean to get started down that route. I'm just a little bitter.

So-

Mo will miss me, Resa won't, and Farid might, but I guess I'm really hoping that you will. Is that selfish? Is that too much to hope for? I miss you already, even though I can see you now through my window, outside with your new pet. I'm sorry about Gwin- I know how much you miss him, and I guess Jinks couldn't stand knowing how he couldn't replace your first companion, so he just took off, unable to handle the competition….

Sound familiar?

Sorry.

I realize that hoping for you to see in me in any sort of romantic light is unreasonable, absurd, preposterous even. I know that you're happy with Roxane

(or are you really? I've seen the way your eyes follow my mother, lingering wistful…the way your eyes would never follow me.)

and that I'm even younger than your daughter, but really, back in Inkworld, I'd have been married by now, so the notion of us being together isn't _that_ outlandish!

I know, I know that's pretty bold of me to say. Somehow, it's not difficult for me to say all of this- write it, I mean- on paper rather than speaking it to your face. In fact, it's startlingly easy to write this all out, tell you of my feelings, I mean-

Never mind.

Maybe you're wondering why I'm writing you this letter. I mean, I'm perfectly aware that you struggle with the written word

(How my mute mother taught an illiterate man how to read, I'll never know, but it makes this confidence of mine to you possible, so I guess I'm grateful to her for it)

and I know you are deeply uneasy having anything to do with reading/writing/anything of a bookish nature, and why on earth would I be writing to you when I'm not leaving anything behind for my own father? But the truth is, Dustfinger-

I'm actually not ready to go there yet, so let's pretend that didn't happen, shall we?

On a different subject, I suppose you were rather startled when I broke things off with Farid. He didn't do anything wrong, so I bet he was bewildered when I told him I couldn't be with him anymore. You see, there was someone else- not someone I had been intimate with, but someone I was in love with. I can now see that I had been unconsciously using Farid to get closer to that person and once I realized that, it became unbearable for me to be near that person and not-

Gosh, it seems there's no avoiding this, is there? No matter how I try to change the subject, this keeps on coming up, so I might as well just come clean about it.

I could blame it on hormones, or on lack of another guy around for me to crush on, I could blame on my my silly girlish heart, trying to repair myself since I broke up with Farid, but the truth is…I think I love you Dustfinger.

I don't, I mean…I know you could never return my feelings, but I couldn't go any longer without telling you. It's been driving me crazy, and I had to let it out, but I knew I wouldn't have the courage to say it directly to you, and I wouldn't want to stick around once you know, but now that I've said it- written it, sorry- there doesn't seem much else or me to do but get going. Don't feel guilty

(see, I'm presumptuous to hope that you'll miss me enough to feel guilt)

if you think you've chased me away. You haven't. It's just something I need to do for myself.

Unrequitedly yours,

Love,

Meggie

P.S. This letter is for your eyes only. Please don't show it to anyone else, not even Mo.

P.P.S. I'm going to be a writer (surprise, surprise, right?) and though I'll be writing under a different name, I want you to know that my first book (and all the rest) will be dedicated to you.


End file.
